An explosion of laughter between the four friends and coworkers erupted through the bar as it had done numerous times over the last three hours. The bartender watched with a smile as they clinked their glasses together for the fourth or fifth time; he overhead them say they were celebrating a victory in a court case.
The first hour of their Thursday night celebration was filled with going over the details of the case, how detectives Elliot Stabler and Fin Tutuola managed to catch the wanted perpetrator, question those close to him, and gather enough evidence to build a case against him and nail him to the crime.
The second hour was filled with the details of the trial and how ADA Casey Novak was able to get the perp to crack on the stand and admit in front of the jury that he was guilty, which was a delightful surprise, even though all the evidence would've landed him in jail anyway.
And the third and last hour was filled with celebration, showing the bartender and other bar patrons how well Captain Don Cragen led his close-knit unit to this victory.
The laughter and excitement died down as the clock hit 11:00 PM.
"Well," Casey downed the last of her drink, "I think I'm going to head out," she commented as she stood up from the barstool and put her black pea coat on.
"Yeah, I'm gonna call it a night too," Don stated, placing his half-empty glass of club soda back onto the counter of the bar as he stood up.
"Me too." Fin followed suit, getting up from his barstool and putting on his dark green coat. "I have to be back at the station bright and early to work on the Kenneth case."
Elliot watched as his coworkers and friends gathered their things to depart, but he didn't feel ready to leave.
"I think I'm gonna stay and have one more before I head home," Elliot told his coworkers.
"You gonna stay by yourself?" Casey questioned.
"Yeah," Elliot nodded.
"You sure?" Don questioned. "We don't want to leave you in a bar by yourself."
"Nah." Elliot shook his head. "You guys go; I'll be fine."
"Let the man have another celebratory drink." Fin patted Elliot on the shoulder in support. "He deserves it."
Elliot chuckled humbly as Don and Casey caved and agreed. The three friends said their goodbyes to Elliot then to each other and went their separate ways.
"Another whiskey," Elliot signaled to the bartender as he turned his barstool to the side, observing the crowd – that's when he saw her at the pool table again. She had been catching his eye all night.
Her back curved as she leaned forward holding her pool stick. She carefully placed the tip on the green felt and narrowed her eyes at the scene in front of her. With one swift movement, she jabbed the stick forward. Elliot didn't see if her ball had gone in its intended destination or not; he was too busy watching her face light up with proudness as her smile stretched from ear to ear, which he took as a sign of success.
The opposing player, a tall guy with long blond hair and a leather jacket, took his turn next, as the bartender set the glass full of alcohol in front of Elliot, which he immediately started sipping on.
He watched as the girl took a sip of her drink; he could see her green eyes from across the bar. He watched as her dark red hair fell in front of her shoulders as she leaned over the pool table to take her final turn. Her black fitted top flattered her in all the right places, showing the slightest bit of skin between her shirt and her jeans when she leaned over. He watched as she ignored the not-so-subtle advances from her pitiful blond-haired partner.
When her last ball went into the hole, she smiled proudly at her victory.
"Anyone else wanna play?" She asked, as she spun around, looking for another pool partner.
"I'll give it a shot," Elliot spoke up, surprising himself. Liquid courage, he thought to himself as he downed the last of the smooth amber liquor from his glass then stood up from his barstool and walked over to the redhead.
She eyed him curiously then said, "You break."
Elliot nodded in agreement then gathered the necessary equipment to set up the next game.
He took his first shot without hesitation, not really caring if he ultimately won or lost the game, then looked up at the girl from across the pool table.
"Solids," he called.
"I'll be stripes then," she responded as she leaned across the table and lined up her shot. "What's your name?"
"Elliot," he answered. "Stabler."
"Elliot Stabler," she repeated. "I like it."
She shot the white ball across the table and nailed another ball, sending it directly into the nearest hole. "I'm Johanna. Rowan."
"Nice to meet you, Johanna Rowan."
While Elliot went to take his next turn, Johanna shouted to the bartender, "Can we get a couple Manhattans?"
Elliot shot the pool stick then glanced up at the girl, appreciating her taste in alcoholic beverages.
"Is that okay?" She questioned, noting his reaction.
"A Manhattan? Fine with me," Elliot responded as he backed away from the pool table.
He tried to play it cool as the game continued, but he knew if he kept downing drinks, he would lose his liquid courage and it would turn into liquid embarrassment, so he sipped slowly on the whiskey cocktail when the bartender brought them over.
"Come here often?" Johanna asked the ever-so-cliché question as she took her next turn.
"Sometimes," Elliot answered, leaning against the wall. "You?"
"First time," she responded truthfully. "I like the atmosphere. It's quaint, everyone's friendly like they're all regular customers."
"Well of course they're going to be friendly to you," he laughed, moving to the pool table to take his shot.
She raised her eyebrows and shrugged in a 'fine with me' manner.
After some more brief small talk and another round of Manhattans, their pool game ended. Johanna had won (though Elliot wasn't trying very hard to beat her), and instead of turning around to find a new partner to beat, she turned back to Elliot.
"Rematch?" She questioned.
Her inquiry took him by surprise. He was expecting her to move on to the next pitiful single guy willing to play a game with her.
"You don't want to try to whip some other guy's sorry ass?" Elliot joked.
"Nah," she smirked at him. "I like your sorry ass."
Elliot swallowed hard as she set up for the next game. Pull it together, Stabler, he mentally scolded himself. He didn't know how to react: Should he flirt with her? It's not like he even remembered how to flirt. Should he just call it a night? Surely there was some other guy in this bar she would rather play pool with.
He downed the rest of his Manhattan, needing more liquid courage, and told himself to relax – after all, it was just a pool game with some meaningless flirting. He gave himself permission to go with the flow and not be uptight about the situation.
"So what's your story, Stabler?" Johanna questioned as she took the first shot. The balls scattered across the felt table then she said, "Stripes again."
"Solids," Elliot responded. "And what do you mean 'what's my story'?"
She watched as Elliot took his turn. "I saw you and your friends celebrating earlier. What's your story?"
"Ah," he replied. "I'm a cop, a detective actually. We closed a pretty big case this afternoon and won an important trial."
"Wow," she smiled. "Impressive. Congratulations."
"Thanks," Elliot couldn't help but smile back at her as he felt the alcohol doing its job and relaxing him. "So what's your story? This what you do for fun?"
"What? Hang out in bars by myself and kick everyone's ass at pool?" She laughed. "Not quite." She leaned across the pool table and took her turn. "I was stood up, actually."
"No way," Elliot retorted. He really did not believe her. No way someone stood up a gorgeous girl like her.
"Yep," Johanna stated, recalling a coworker trying to set her up with a friend despite her protest. "So I decided to just stay and play pool. I mean, I was all dressed up with nowhere else to go. Might as well." It wasn't something she did frequently, but she was enjoying the night so far.
"I know it probably doesn't matter coming from a stranger, but I'm sorry that you were stood up tonight," Elliot commented.
"Don't be," Johanna smiled. "I'm glad he stood me up. I probably wouldn't be having this much fun if he had shown up."
She watched as Elliot took his turn. His face was very stern and serious, though his smile was gentle and genuine. His blue button up shirt was still tucked in but the first button was undone, allowing his white undershirt to be seen, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. He looked professional and mature, but still relaxed.
There was something about Elliot Stabler that made her curious. He wasn't throwing himself at her pathetically like some of the other guys in the bar, but she could tell he was interested. He was good looking, no doubt, and he was so masculine and mysterious; she was fairly certain she hadn't ever known a guy like him. And she wanted to get to know him better.
"You win," Johanna smiled when Elliot skillfully sunk his last ball into the nearest hole, winning their second game.
"Now we're tied," he stated.
"So," Johanna approached Elliot. "I should probably get going, it's getting late, but...let's break the tie next week. Same place, same time?"
Elliot smiled, feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable than he did a couple hours earlier. "Sure; same time, same place."
"Pumpernickel."
"Persnickety."
"Discombobulate."
Elliot and Johanna took turns rattling off their favorite 'funny sounding' words as they sat on the sidewalk outside the bar with their backs against the bricks.
"Flabbergasted."
"Tittle."
Johanna giggled wildly. "What the hell does tittle mean?"
Elliot chuckled then explained, "It's the little dot above a lowercase 'i' – you didn't know that?" He glanced at her.
Still laughing, she shook her head. "No! You win that one."
The two grew comfortably quiet as their laughter died down.
Elliot recalled how he felt a few hours earlier; how when he walked from the precinct to the bar, he wondered if Johanna was actually going to meet him there as she had suggested the week before. If she had remembered or if she even cared. For all he knew, she told every guy she played pool with last Thursday night to meet her at the bar again.
When he escaped from the cool early-September air into the warmth of the bar, his eyes immediately scanned the room for the girl. He felt a little foolish when he didn't see her waiting for him anywhere, he should've known better, but he decided to sit at the bar for a drink anyway.
"What can I get you, detective?" The same bartender from last week questioned, remembering the customer who was celebrating his victorious court case.
"Uh," Elliot thought for a moment then answered. "A Manhattan." He took another look around the bar and eyed a few people when they walked in, but none of them were the redhead from the week before.
He had given very little thought to dating after his untimely separation and divorce, drowning himself in work to cope like he always had, but this was the first time he actually actively pursued another woman since his wife. Dating felt foreign to him. It was an uneasy feeling, so he wondered if maybe it wasn't such a good idea just yet.
"I bet you thought I wasn't going to show up, huh?" The gorgeous redhead joked as she sat down next to Elliot.
Her sudden presence made the former uneasy feeling dissipate, replacing it with delight.
"I wasn't sure for a while," he chuckled.
Truth be told, she almost didn't show up. She was unsure of how she wanted the night to go, if it meant anything at all, but she was still so curious about him, she couldn't stop herself from going.
After a few rounds of Manhattans and pool, they made their way outside to say their goodbyes, but ended up just continuing their small talk on the sidewalk. Before they knew it, they were sitting down on the dirty concrete, laughing about funny words and trying to say them backwards.
Elliot saw a side of himself that night that he hadn't seen in years. Years of being a marine, a cop, a husband, and a father had turned him into a very serious and straight-laced man. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he had forgotten what it was like to let loose and have fun – to simply enjoy being alive. In just one night, Johanna had managed to remind him what it was like to be carefree and live in the moment. Never in a million years would he have imagined himself sitting on the filthy New York City concrete, laughing about ridiculous words with a gorgeous redhead he barely knew.
Though he knew the feelings were only temporary, he relished in them. He could've attributed it to the liquor, it did work wonders on one's morals and judgments, but in the past, drinking excessively only proved to make him angry and depressed.
Unbeknownst to Elliot, Johanna had felt the very same way not too long ago. She had never been tied down to a spouse or children like he had, but traumatic childhood experiences forced her to grow up quickly and lose a chunk of her youth. In the past few years, she had come so far in her attempts to simply enjoy life, but she still held back and restricted herself at times.
Despite her self-inflicted limitations, she was unusually curious about Elliot. It felt as if he, too, brought out a side of her that she assumed was long gone.
"Let's make this a weekly thing, yeah?" Johanna suggested, glancing over at him.
"Yeah," Elliot agreed.
Though neither of them were very sure about what would come of the arrangement, they were eager to continue chasing the freedom they felt that night.